


Past Bewildered

by voleuse



Category: Alias
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-18
Updated: 2006-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 06:23:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>A hectic night of goats and compasses.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Bewildered

**Author's Note:**

> S5, no spoilers. Title and summary adapted from Cynthia Zarin's _Skating in Harlem, Christmas Day_.

_i. skating backwards tells another story_.

They have very plausible reasons for knowing each other, should anybody ask. It helps that Carrie deflects for them, though she only knows half the story.

There are kids running through the room, half of them barefoot. Tom flinches whenever they stampede past him. Rachel knows he has a weapon, because his hand jerks to his back when a little girl yells, "Bang!"

The fourth time it happens, Rachel lays a hand on his shoulder, a steady slide of fingers against his sleeve. "I can't stand the _Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers_ either," she says.

"The what?" Tom frowns, but at least he stops eyeing the kids like enemy combatants.

"It's a kids' show," she tries to explain, then shakes her head. "Forget it. Just play nice, okay?"

Tom hangs his head, and Rachel laughs.

"Come on," she says, and tugs at his elbow. "There's nog in the kitchen."

_ii. two naughts we've learned make one astonished 0_

Sydney's making _rescue me_ eyes at her, so Rachel slides past Carrie's second best friend from high school, murmuring about eggnog. Sydney's sitting with another pregnant woman, a woman breastfeeding, and a three-year-old girl sporting three ponytails.

"--your feet must be watermelons," one of the mothers is saying. "Tell me you get to sit all day. You'll break my heart otherwise."

Sydney smiles, the smile she uses on white-collar criminals. "I like keeping active."

"Swimming?" The pregnant woman raises one of her feet, rests it against the coffee table's leg. "Shopping with extended breaks?"

"Kind of, yeah." Sydney places a hand on the small swell of her belly. "A little walking, sometimes."

"Sydney?" Rachel picks out the best spot to hover over her, and holds out a cookie like it's uranium. "You have _got_ to try one of these."

"Yeah?" Sydney levers up from her armchair, then shrugs at her companions. "I have got a killer sweet tooth lately."

The women wave goodbye, and Sydney bumps shoulders with Rachel.

"I owe you," she whispers.

Rachel marks the tally in the air with her finger, and Sydney steals the cookie out of her other hand.

_iii. a way to walk on water and not drown_

Tom dips the ladle into the bowl of eggnog, yet again, and drizzles another half-cup into the flimsy plastic tumbler.

Beside him, Jack clears his throat.

Tom holds the ladle up. "Nog?"

"Sure." Jack extracts a cup the leaning column of plastic and holds it out.

The eggnog is thick and creamy, flecks of cinnamon and nutmeg swirling through it.

Tom fills Jack's cup to within an inch of the brim. "How's that?"

"Good," Jack affirms.

Tom replaces the ladle, takes a sip from his cup.

Jack does the same, then scans the room. "It's a nice party."

"Yeah," Tom replies.

They drink again.

_iv. scratched by the skater's multiplying math_

Sydney finds her dad hiding in a corner of the kitchen. He's staring at the green Jell-O mold, a wreath oddly garnished with cranberries.

"It tastes better than it looks," she tells him, and he doesn't startle.

Instead, he nods. "I know," he replies. "Every year, somebody would bring one to the house for Christmas."

"Yeah?" Sydney picks up a loose spatula, pokes the wreath to watch it wobble.

"Yes." He takes the spatula out of her hand, sets it on the counter. "Your mother hated them. I told her she could make dessert, if she objected so much."

"And?"

"And we had Jell-O every year."

Sydney laughs, and Jack chuckles along with her. On a whim, Sydney slides her hand into his, and he squeezes tightly.

"Merry Christmas, Dad."

He smiles, and kisses her on the forehead.


End file.
